A Baby In His Stocking (The Buckhorn Ranch Book 4)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “For what it’s worth,” Wyatt said, “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”

  “I get that, but you shouldn’t have to just be fine. You should be over-the-moon happy.” Wyatt couldn’t imagine the joy he’d feel were he in this Craig character’s position. His heart would feel so full it’d hurt. Thing is, he’d never get the chance.

  “Really,” Natalie said, “I’ve got this whole single-mom thing figured out. Sort of,” she tagged on with a sad little laugh.

  “Aw, you’re going to make a great mother.” Wyatt abandoned the napkins he’d been straightening to give her a hug. In his arms, she felt small and fragile. The man in him wanted nothing more than to protect her and make everything okay. She smelled of sweet apples and barely there floral perfume. She reminded him of the kind of take-home-to-mom girl he’d always planned to marry—at least until fate had thrown him a screw-you curveball. Now, no kids. No marriage. No life he’d always imagined.

  “LADIES…” WYATT TIPPED his cowboy hat.

  “Hey.” Was it wrong that a simple grin from the man had Natalie ready to swoon? The Buckhorn Halloween extravaganza was in full swing, and the chilly night air came as a welcome reprieve to the stuffy, kid-loaded barn.

  “You’re just in time,” Josie said to Wyatt. “If we’re going to keep to Georgina’s schedule, we need to hitch the horses to the wagon ASAP.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave his sister-in-law a salute, but Natalie received a wink. Oh, she knew full well he was just playing around, but the gesture returned her fertile imagination to that epic kiss, compounded by his small kindnesses at the school rummage sale. For all the years they’d been acquaintances, she was only just now seeing what an asset he’d be as a true friend.

  While Wyatt set about readying their ride, Josie returned to the party, leaving Natalie on her own with the man. And his dizzingly well-fitting jeans. Even in the dark, his size was impressive. Tall and broad in all the right places. Their kiss had also educated her on the full extent of his strong muscles.

  Mouth dry, she looked away, disappointed in herself by the realization she’d been staring.

  “It’s okay,” he said, leading a large draft. “You’d be a fool not to look.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know you like what you see.” After another wink, he smacked his butt.

  “You’re nuts.” Natalie tried playing it cool, but instead, burst out laughing. “And annoyingly handsome.”

  “Thanks.” He cinched the horse’s lead. “I was just thinking the same about you. Only with more feminine adjectives.”

  Their banter was all in good fun, but as Wyatt returned to his task and Natalie busied herself helping two dozen children and a few parents onto the wagon, she couldn’t help but reflect on how differently her life might have been if Craig hadn’t turned out to be such a flake. But then it wasn’t all Craig’s fault she’d ended up pregnant.

  The few times he had forgotten a condom, she could’ve stopped their lovemaking. But honestly, she’d secretly hoped to become pregnant. She’d foolheartedly believed a baby would magically drive Craig to the altar. Oh—it’d driven him all right, straight to the nearest highway out of the state.

  With the wagon jolting to a start, surrounded by sweet-smelling hay and singing children, stars twinkling above, Natalie choked back a sudden yearning. For all of her brave talk to Josie about how she’d be fine raising her baby on her own, she didn’t want to.

  In the dark shadows she drank in Wyatt’s strong profile, imagining him with her in a more simple time. In Oklahoma a hundred years earlier. Wyatt was a man’s man. She could all too easily see him leading a cattle drive down the Chisholm Trail. He might handle the oil side of the family business now, but in high school, he and Dallas had often been hired by her father to help with their cattle. As a little kid, Wyatt’s favorite game at recess had been wagon train.

  Too bad her imagination was the only place any of them were perfect. For all of Wyatt’s physical attributes, when it came to how he treated women, Wyatt was no different than Craig. Oh sure, he might be far more smooth, but his basic noncommitment routine was much the same. Maybe worse—at least Craig had told Natalie to her face he was done. Wyatt’s kissing stunt had forced Starla to do the work.

  The only reason Wyatt treated Natalie with respectful kid gloves was the knowledge that they would never be more than friends, never mind the glimpse of chemistry they’d shared.

  “Miss Natalie,” seven-year-old Bonnie Buckhorn said, “I thought you were s’posed to tell us a ghost story?”

  “Yeah.” Bonnie’s twin, Betsy, climbed onto Natalie’s lap. “And if you don’t tell the story, then when Uncle Cash jumps out in his costume, trying to scare us, then nobody’s gonna be scared.”

  “Hush,” Natalie halfheartedly scolded. “That’s supposed to be a surprise for your friends.”

  Betsy folded her chubby arms. “Then Daddy shouldn’t’ve been talking so loud with Grandma, because I know all about it.”

  Laughing, Natalie gave the pint-size know-it-all a squeeze. Was it wrong to pray her child wasn’t quite as precocious?

  By the time the story had ended and all of the kids save for Betsy were sufficiently spooked, Wyatt pulled the wagon alongside the old stone mill where a bonfire crackled. Dancing flames only added to the already ghoulish scene. Gnarled oak limbs cast monster shadows held at bay with plenty of marshmallows, chocolate and laughter.

  Natalie had just assembled a giant s’more when a couple of Bonnie’s masked friends ran into her during a ghost-hunter chase. They apologized, but only after having caused Natalie to fall.

  “Lord, woman…” Wyatt sprung from the crowd gathered around the fire to help her to her feet. From there, with surprising tenderness, he brushed gravel from her palms. His warmth came as a shock, causing her breath to hitch. Awareness of his size, his strength, the decadence of melted chocolate on his breath, melded into a confused knot in her chest. Was she coming down with something? “There you go,” he said. “All better. Damned kids. Should’ve watched where they were going. But you need to be careful. This is starting to be a habit.”

  “Th-thanks.” He released her hands, but not her gaze. Which, if only for a few seconds, was too intense.

  He looked away before asking, “Is the rest of you all right? You know, like the baby?”

  Natalie nodded. “I think so.”

  “Good.” Hands in his pockets, he looked to the sky, then the wagon. “Well, I should check on the horses.”

  Just like that, Wyatt was gone.

  Natalie should’ve been fine with his leaving, but oddly enough, she felt lonely.

  “WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT?” Dallas asked.

  “What do you mean?” Wyatt checked the horse’s harnesses.

  “That thing with Nat. You’re not thinking of starting something with her, are you? In case you forgot, you’re breaking your mother’s heart in just under a month.”

  Wyatt shot his brother a dirty look. “For the record, your daughter’s hellion friends knocked Nat down. I was doing a good deed. As for Mom, with as many rug rats as you’ve got running around the ranch, she’ll never notice I’m gone.”

  “Trust me, she’ll notice. She already asked if she should hire a bodyguard for you in case your trip gets dicey. Don’t know why you can’t just stick around here and pop out some grandkids for her like the rest of us. Would that be so hard?” Stroking one of the horse’s cheeks, no doubt when he thought Wyatt wasn’t looking, Dallas rechecked the harnesses. Classic Dallas. Always in his business. Never trusting Wyatt to competently handle a job. Ignoring the fact that since Wyatt had taken over the oil side of the ranch, they’d made money hand over fist. Ever since his big brother had the twins, he’d seemed to equate success with the number of kids a guy had. Considering his own shortcomings in that field, Wyatt figured he’d had just about all of his brother’s wisdom he could handle.

  Wyatt said, �
�How about I take the truck back to my place and you handle the wagon?”

  “Won’t work,” Dallas said. “We need you here to—”

  “How about making it work.” Beyond angry, Wyatt strode to the vehicle. Nine times out of ten, Dallas left the keys in the ignition.

  This time was no exception.

  Wyatt started the engine, hit the lights then bucked it into gear, in the process damn near hitting Natalie.

  “Where are you going?” she called over the ancient V-8.

  “Home. Had enough family togetherness to last the next year.”

  “Me, too,” she said, fumbling with her fingers at her waist. Had it always been huge? How could he not have noticed? “Would you mind taking me to my car?”

  For a split second, Wyatt thought about turning her down, but then his mind flashed on just how pleasant his past couple meetings with her had been. Natalie was the anti-Dallas.

  Meeting his brother’s glare, Wyatt said to Natalie, “Hop in. Let’s go lookin’ for trouble.”

  Chapter Three

  “What was that about?” Natalie asked once they were well away from the bonfire’s glow.

  “You really don’t wanna know.”

  “Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” She rolled down her window. Sweet wood smoke laced the air rushing across her flushed cheeks and chest. “Your mom, bless her heart, just pressed my hot button nine ways to Sunday. Way I see it, I’ll tell you my frustrations, then you can vent yours.”

  “Deal. Do you like shooting?”

  Forehead furrowed, she angled on the seat to face him. “Haven’t done it since I was a kid, but it was fun then.”

  “Oh,” he said with a sharp laugh, “you’re gonna love this.”

  Twenty minutes driving across dark prairie landed them alongside an old wood outbuilding and trash pile from the land’s previous owners. One of the latest parcels added to the vast Buckhorn spread, the old Spring place wasn’t fancy, but according to Josie, Dallas had gone after it with a vengeance.

  “Come on,” Wyatt said, taking a 30-30 rifle from the back window. “And grab the shells from the glove box.”

  Moonlight shimmered off a pond. From somewhere—Natalie hoped far away—coyotes yipped. After handing Wyatt the ammo, she hugged herself to ward off a chill.

  “Cold?” he asked, boots crunching on hard-packed dirt.

  “A little.”

  He removed his ranch coat, settling it about her shoulders. It was still warm and smelled of him—a delicious blend of leather and soap and citrus that quickened her pulse.

  “Thanks.”

  He cast her a faint, unreadable smile before fishing rusty cans from a burn barrel. After lining ten along the crooked posts of a barbwire fence, he took the rifle from under his arm and the shells from his back pocket and loaded the gun.

  Handing it to her, he said, “Ladies first.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment,” she said, “but it’s been a while. As a refresher course, I’ll watch you a few times.”

  Shrugging, he said, “Suit yourself. I’ve got to work some of this frustration out before I say something to Dallas I’m gonna regret.” Aiming at the farthest can, he fired, blowing it to smithereens. “Damn! Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

  Natalie laughed above her still-ringing ears. “Hand me that gun, cowboy. Training camp’s over. I want a turn.”

  He loaded it before handing it to her. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “No, but how hard can it be?” She prepared to fire, but he stopped her.

  “A pose like that is going to give you one helluva bruise. Try this…” Behind her, he drew back the butt of the rifle, landing it square against her shoulder. His proximity set off explosions that had nothing to do with gun powder. The tall, lean length of him radiated heat to her shoulders and back and butt, igniting a tingling swirl in her belly. What was wrong with her? She’d never been attracted to Wyatt. He was the kind of guy she knew she could count on if she had a flat tire. He wasn’t the kind of guy a single, pregnant woman turned to for a rebound fling. He was renowned for breaking hearts—never saving them. “Feel better?”

  With his warm breath in her ear, she most certainly did not feel better. What she truly felt was a yearning hunger for another kiss. Ludicrous, but undeniable. Forcing a breath, she nodded.

  “Good. Line the can in your sight, then pow. Blow all your frustrations away.” He’d whispered that one little word, causing more damage to her resolve to resist his charm than she’d ever do to the can.

  “This one’s for you, Georgina.”

  “Sounds intriguing,” he teased.

  She pulled the trigger, and found that the noise and thrill were just the ticket to clearing the angst buildup.

  An hour later, having finished off the box of shells, Natalie sat alongside Wyatt in the old truck, warming her hands in front of blowing heater vents. “Thanks for this. It turned out to be exactly what I needed.”

  “Happy to oblige.”

  After a few moments’ comfortable silence, cocooned in the truck’s dark cab, Natalie said, “I haven’t yet found the nerve to tell my folks about my pregnancy. Their world’s pretty black and white, and having an unwed daughter with a baby on the way wouldn’t even begin to compute.”

  “Sorry. When it comes to family disapproval, mine wrote the book.”

  “Oh, please.” Twisting on the seat for a better view of his handsome profile, she asked, “What have you ever done that the mighty Buckhorns disapproved of?”

  “Like your folks,” he said, narrowly avoiding a fallen tree, “they would prefer I be married. Oh—and they can’t stand my house.”

  “Really? Town gossip says it’s pretty amazing.”

  “I like to think so.” His smile warmed her far more efficiently that the heater.

  “And lately, they’re mighty pissed about me leaving.”

  “Hmm…Josie told me about your great Ethiopian adventure. Sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Something to be done before you finally do settle down with a wife and those requisite 2.5 kids.”

  Natalie had expected Wyatt to appreciate her support. Instead, his expression hardened.

  She asked, “Did I somehow offend you?”

  He shook his head and gripped the wheel tighter.

  “Then why the one-eighty in your mood?”

  After a glance out his window at the inky nothing beyond the glass, he exhaled. “What the hell? I’ve needed to get this off my chest for a while now, and I like you, Natalie. Always have. Most girls fell for my Buckhorn hype, but not you. You always treated me like a regular Joe.”

  Stomach sour, Natalie wasn’t sure she wanted to hear whatever Wyatt had to say.

  “I appreciate that. Outside of family, and a few close friends, there aren’t a lot of people I can trust to keep my private issues private. Know what I mean?”

  She nodded. “I feel that way about Josie. As happy as I was to see her marry Dallas, part of me mourned to have lost her. Sure, we’ll always be close, but not the way we were before she began bursting with family.”

  Wincing, he said, “There’s that word again. The bane of my existence.”

  “Family?” Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I would think however your relatives are, they’re still your blood and you love them.”

  “Love has nothing to do with it. Their expectations for me to be just like them is what brings me down—especially since no matter how much they bitch and nag about me marrying and having kids, their hopes will never come to pass.”

  “Why? You’re young. How can you arbitrarily decide you never want to be more than a bachelor?”

  “Easy.” Thumping the heel of his hand against the wheel, he added, “Especially since it wasn’t even my decision. I’ll never have a son or daughter.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “To spell it out, I’m sterile.”

  Heart aching for him, eyes stinging with tears she struggled to hold in,
she asked, “H-how do you know?”

  “Nasty case of mumps. Doc Haven tested me. That’s why I’m so desperate to get out of Weed Gulch. No one knows, and the last thing I want to do is tell them. I don’t want their pity or well-meaning lectures on the wonders of adoption. I need to be left alone, you know? Just come to grips with this in my own way.”

  Hand on his forearm, she asked, “How long have you known?”

  “A few months, and damned if the more kids my brothers and sister pop out, the more disconnected I feel. I will forever be the lone man out and it—”

  When his voice cracked, Natalie scooted across the seat to put her arms around him.

  He stopped the truck, killing the engine.

  Though Wyatt never shed a tear, Natalie could only imagine how much his diagnosis had hurt. For a guy like him, his macho manliness no doubt meant the world. To never be able to have his own namesake must be crushing.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, holding him for all she was worth. “Ironic how your family wants nothing more than for you to produce a child, and mine is going to be peeved for that very fact.”

  “Which is why I need to get the hell out of Dodge. For the most part, family is great, but this is one time when I just want to escape.”

  Not sure what the politically correct thing to say was at a time like this, Natalie said the first thing that popped into her mind. “I don’t blame you. The Buckhorns are a pretty intense bunch. I can just imagine Georgina catching wind of this. Demanding you have every test in the book done, ignoring the fact that you’re a big boy and no doubt already double-and triple-checked this for yourself.”

  “True.”

  She gave him another hug. “You go off on this adventure of yours, and once you get back, maybe you’ll feel better about your lot, maybe you won’t, but at least you’ll be out there, living life to its fullest.”

  Easing back, he said, “You’re amazing. How is it I never dated you?”